As if caught, the core reverted to its original golden hue, then went through an entire spectral display of colors. “I was bored in my cabinet, so I modified some of the internal programming. It is my way of staying ‘sane,’ perhaps, in my own synthesized way. Please understand, I have only a few avenues of personal growth.”
Gilbertus wondered if he should be alarmed. “I will do my best to find a suitable mobile apparatus to hold you, at least temporarily, but we must set up strict controls about where you use it, in order to keep you from being discovered.”
“Maybe I could become a hunter of the wild creatures around here. Set me loose on the land around the marsh, and I’ll occupy myself studying wild animals, using that data to augment my studies of human beings.”
“An interesting idea, but we are not ready to set you loose anywhere. For one thing, how do I know you won’t try to create a thinking-machine empire again?”
The robot simulated his laughter. “Why should I wish to create another evermind? Omnius caused me as many problems as humans did. Why do you think I taught you how to be a Mentat? It is to demonstrate that humans could be more than they had been before. The same holds true for thinking machines. We must coexist with humans in the future, a partnership of machine and man.”
Gilbertus responded, “A partnership of man and machine, in that order, is more appropriate—with humankind in charge.”
Erasmus remained silent for a moment. “A matter of perspective. However, don’t forget, without me, you’re nothing.”
“We must stand on each other’s shoulders,” Gilbertus said with a gentle smile.
I am not afraid to use any weapon at my disposal—and information can be the deadliest weapon of all.
—JOSEF VENPORT, INTERNAL VENHOLD MEMO
When Draigo Roget arrived on Kolhar, freshly graduated from his intensive and costly schooling on Lampadas, Josef Venport greeted him like a returning hero.
The nascent Mentat wore a black tunic and billowing black trousers. He emerged from the shuttle and stood blinking in midday sunlight, looking around at the spaceport towers, the spacing fleet administrative headquarters, and the blocky structures of engine-fabrication plants. Josef and a small welcoming committee sped across the landing field in a humming groundcar. As they stepped out, Draigo came forward and gave a curt bow to his benefactor. “Your plan worked perfectly, sir.”
Josef shook the man’s hand energetically, then stepped back and regarded Draigo, looking him up and down. “You’ve changed. Your entire demeanor looks much more … intense.” He meant it as a compliment.
Draigo nodded slightly. “And focused. It was a long and difficult process to become a Mentat, but you will not regret your investment.”
Josef could not stop himself from smiling. “You’re among the first of the candidates we seeded into the school, and I expect others to join us soon. VenHold requires skilled Mentats.” He planned to use them to monitor accounts in his banking operations on different planets, and the VenHold subsidiary Combined Mercantiles had vast and complex record-keeping requirements as well.
Josef had tested many young candidates for Mentat training, with Cioba conducting careful interviews on his behalf. Once the best ones were culled out, his security chief, Ekbir, crafted completely new identities and histories for the students before they traveled to Lampadas, to conceal their loyalties from any persistently curious Butlerian observers. The Mentat School was much too closely and uneasily allied with Manford Torondo and his barbarians, and Josef would not be surprised if the petulant fanatics refused his candidates access to the specialized training. So, VenHold secretly funded their tuition—and these students did not know one another, for security purposes.
“So I am among the first?” Draigo asked. “I am pleased to learn that.”
“Many more will follow you,” Josef said. “Tomorrow, Cioba and I will start familiarizing you with the new work you’ll be doing for us.”
* * *
THE TWO MEN stood out on the sunlit field, where light reflected off the enclosed tanks filled with melange gas. Draigo regarded the mutating forms of the Navigator-candidates with great interest. Previously, Josef had kept this operation secret from him. “Thank you for revealing all this to me, Directeur Venport.”
Josef shrugged. “A Mentat with incomplete data is useless.”
His wife joined them, wearing a conservative dress suit, her long hair pinned up under a scarf. She and Norma Cenva had returned from their odd and unexpected journey to Rossak; Josef did not look fondly on them sharing confidential VenHold information with the Sisterhood, but both Norma and Cioba, not to mention Josef’s own daughters, were inextricably linked with those women, and he knew it would serve no purpose to force them to choose their loyalties.
Cioba followed him as they walked down the aisles to one tank he had chosen in particular. Josef peered into the curved plaz viewing port and spoke out of the side of his mouth to the dark-clad Mentat. “What you underwent was a difficult thing, Draigo, but the metamorphosis into a Navigator requires even more extreme changes. This man here, for instance, is a very interesting case—not a volunteer, actually, but a spy that we caught in the act.”
“A spy? What was he after?”
“Everything we’re doing with the Navigators … but we stopped him before he could divulge our secrets to his employer, Celestial Transport. I placed him in the chamber, intending nothing more than a poetic execution, but he’s surprising me with his adaptive abilities.” Josef rapped his knuckles on the clearplaz viewport. The sticklike figure inside twitched and turned like a marionette on invisible strings. “His name is apparently Royce Fayed, though I don’t know if he’ll remember a trivial thing like that after the transformation is complete. My great-grandmother is guiding him. I think he may survive to become a Navigator after all.”
Fayed’s face looked distorted and swollen, his eyes enlarged, his cheeks rounded, and chin melting away as if he were a wax figure exposed to too much heat. His large eyes blinked, but his mouth didn’t move. He made no attempt to say anything.
“If he was a spy, then he is your enemy.” Draigo peered through the murky clouds inside the chamber. “Logically, he cannot be trustworthy as a Navigator. Given this extreme mutation inflicted upon him, how can the man not hate Venport Holdings? If you place him aboard one of your spacefolder ships, what is to stop him from crashing the vessel with all passengers and cargo, or taking it to Celestial Transport? It would seem a large risk for you to take.”
“Norma assures us there is no risk,” Cioba said. “Now that the initial mutation has occurred and his mind is expanding, he is very eager to become a Navigator for us. He wants this very much.”
“Interesting,” Draigo said noncommittally.
Josef sounded more defensive than he intended. “If Norma Cenva tells me to trust him, how can I dispute her? She is the heart of our entire commercial empire.”
“I accept your conclusion, sir. You will need all the Navigators you can create, considering the discovery I recently made.” The new Mentat turned dryly toward him. “It is my gift to you. A very interesting projection.”
Josef raised his eyebrows. “Now you have my attention.”
“Before I completed my Mentat training, Gilbertus Albans and I studied more than a century of records, traced known flight paths and movements of thinking-machine ships. After compiling the myriad clues, we performed an extensive Mentat projection and each of us reached the same conclusion.” Draigo smiled, drawing out the suspense. “Sir, I have postulated the likely location of a very large machine shipyard, a manufacturing and refueling facility that in all probability holds a great many ships and orbiting industries. Since there is no record of this depot—if it exists—I must conclude the entire facility is almost certainly undiscovered and intact.”
Josef brightened. “And there for the taking.” He glanced at the twisted figure floating on suspensors in the gas-filled tank. “The spy mentioned that Celest
ial Transport has located just such a facility, but I have no idea where it is.”
“Maybe I do,” Draigo said.
All jungles are unique ecosystems, and the tropical forests of Rossak are even more so, and more important because of the biochemical resources they provide. It is in our interest to exert as much control as possible over the resources of that planet.
—COMBINED MERCANTILES, CONFIDENTIAL REPORT
Raquella summoned Valya and Dorotea to her private library and office, but before she could state her business, Dorotea interrupted, clearly agitated. “Reverend Mother, I am concerned. One of the new acolytes, Sister Ingrid, has not appeared for her classes since yesterday. She is not in her quarters. No one has seen her.”
Valya tensed, but the Reverend Mother studiously avoided looking in her direction. “Your concern is admirable, Sister Dorotea. I will send out inquiries and ask the other proctors to look into the matter.” She narrowed her eyes, sat at her desk facing the two women she had summoned. “But I have eleven hundred students on Rossak, and I called you here to discuss one in particular—Anna Corrino. Because of the stakes, we must make sure she is treated properly. Sister Dorotea, you were with the Corrinos for a year. I would like to hear your assessment of the Princess.”
“But Sister Ingrid—”
“We are talking about Anna Corrino at the moment. Your assessment, please.” Her voice was startlingly powerful, snapping both Valya and Dorotea to attention.
Dorotea blinked, drew a quick breath. “I’m sorry, Reverend Mother.” While Valya remained seated across from Raquella, the other Sister paced the room. “Yes, I know the Corrinos well, and I know Anna’s personality. Do not pamper her. She behaves in a spoiled manner, frequently complains or uses passive resistance techniques. She has not been given responsibility, nor has she learned to understand the consequences of her actions.”
“She’s never had the chance,” Valya added. “All her life, her brothers took care of any problems, saved her from herself. She acts out where she can, as she did in pursuing an inappropriate romance with a young chef in the Palace, forcing her brothers to send her here to Rossak, just to put her someplace where she can’t cause further trouble.”
Raquella nodded. “It would be better if she learned to be strong and competent herself. I don’t believe the Emperor has any particular expectations from our school, other than to keep her out of trouble. But we would be ignoring an important opportunity if we did not try to make her one of us. One day, Anna Corrino will return to her family, and we should make certain she is dedicated to the Sisterhood.”
Valya allowed her frustration to creep into her voice. “She shows no interest in her classroom studies nor in her mental exercises.”
Dorotea frowned at her. “You’re essentially her warden, watching to make sure she isn’t hurt—but what good is that doing her? Just hiding and protecting her will not make her stronger. She needs to undergo the same vigorous training all acolytes must endure.”
“She’s the Emperor’s sister,” Valya said. “We don’t dare let her come to harm.”
The Reverend Mother nodded in agreement. “Then you must make sure that doesn’t happen, but we will fail Anna if we don’t train her. We should push, not coddle, the girl. Our goal is to improve each Sister. We’ve got to move forward, not tread water. Exposure to hardships hones the human body and psyche—with appropriate safeguards, of course.” She nodded, making up her mind about how to accomplish this. “We’ll place the girl in a demanding situation, send her on a survival quest for a few days. And I want you both to accompany her, watch her. Go deep into the jungles, away from the cliff city.”
Valya privately understood the Reverend Mother’s secondary purpose: Now that Dorotea had begun asking questions about Ingrid, she wanted the other woman away from the cliff city.
* * *
VALYA HARKONNEN DIDN’T like being forced to do things. It made her feel trapped, out of control—and she had left Lankiveil to escape that. But she could see the advantages of spending days in isolation with the Emperor’s sister.
Now Dorotea, Valya, and Anna trudged up a rocky, volcanic slope unlike the dense silvery-purple jungles behind them. They wore lightweight jackets and layered outdoor clothing, and carried no tents, gear, or provisions. As a first training exercise for Anna, the Reverend Mother wanted them to live off the land, drink water from pools, and eat berries, fungi, and protein-rich insects.
They had been away from the civilized caves for three very long and miserable days, but at least they had kept the Corrino girl alive. The experience was very different from Anna’s outings in the palace gardens.
As expected, Anna protested having to go on the survival exercise, clinging to the minimal creature comforts of the cave settlement, but a stern Dorotea reminded her that an acolyte must follow the rules of the Sisterhood. “You’re not in Zimia anymore. All acolytes are equals here, and the Reverend Mother determined your assignment.”
Valya tried to sound more sympathetic. “It’s an important part of becoming a Sister, to make you strong. Remember, the Emperor gave strict instructions that you cannot return to your family until you complete your training.”
The girl had smiled at Valya, agreeing to try … but her dedication wore off quickly. Within hours of their dawn departure, Anna complained of hurting feet, of tangled underbrush, of biting insects. She didn’t like the flavor of the water they found in streams and treated with antibacterial tablets; she claimed to be desperately hungry but wouldn’t eat berries or fungi, much less grub worms from a rotting log. Unable to sleep at night on the ground, she overreacted to every small sound. On the trek today she was sure they had gotten lost; she kept trying to stop and rest, or turn back, but her companions would not allow it.…
Three long days passed. Often, Valya and Dorotea exchanged glances or shakes of the head. For Valya, this had become a survival mission of a different sort.…
She couldn’t help but wonder where Griffin was now, if he had managed to track down and kill Vorian Atreides. With her brother’s intelligence and fighting abilities, it seemed certain that he had an easier task than this.
Sister Dorotea made a habit of lecturing her companions on what was edible and what was not, but her superior attitude and didactic methods had grown annoying. From her own years on the planet, and many months of working with Karee Marques, Valya knew full well what to eat from the jungle. This was her tenth survival exercise away from the cliff city; Dorotea, on the other hand, had been gone from Rossak for years.
Their goal was a cluster of thermal pools that they hoped to reach by midday. Seen in glimpses through the scattered canopy, the sky was lead gray, hinting at rain, and it was hotter here, away from the seasonal breezes on the cliff faces. Once they had climbed above most of the trees, the ground consisted of rough, porous black rock left from a lava flow. The jumbled dark rock lay in long dikes, with verdant fingers of jungle that looked like purplish fjords below.
Now that the ordeal was nearly over, Valya looked up to see the gray sky thickening and darkening as the rain set in. She quickened her pace and took the lead from Dorotea; even Anna began walking faster because she didn’t want to be left alone. “I want to reach the hot springs,” Valya said, “so we can fashion a shelter.”
“Do you know Sister Ingrid?” Dorotea asked as she pushed through the underbrush, bending a mucus-covered fern out of the way. “I recommended her to Rossak after meeting her on Lampadas. I’m concerned about her; she seems to have just vanished.”
“That sounds melodramatic.” Valya was careful to tell the precise truth, which would keep falsehood indicators out of her tone; after her service in the Imperial Court, Dorotea was quite adept at detecting lies. “She’s probably been found by now.”
“I’m glad she didn’t come with us out here,” Anna said, then wandered off the path to look at a patch of spine-covered fungi.
Hearing a crash and a squeal, Valya saw a blur of movement running tow
ard them, low to the ground. Anna screamed.
With hardly a glance at each other, Valya and Dorotea put themselves between Anna and the animal, dropping into defensive postures, keeping their centers of gravity low. The tusked, hairy beast tore up underbrush that grew among the lava boulders, then stomped toward them on legs like pistons.
At the last possible moment, in her own blur of movement, Valya sidestepped and kicked the animal, stunning the creature and knocking it on its side. Her fighting reflexes came naturally to her after so many years of training with Griffin. As Dorotea pulled Anna to safety, Valya leaped onto the creature’s neck and drove her heel down with enough force to crush its throat and vertebrae; a gout of blood squirted from the beast’s mouth and nostrils. Even grievously wounded, the animal squirmed and tried to stand again, before its legs buckled and it tumbled over, dead.
Barely panting, Valya turned to look at the wide-eyed Anna. “You can always be perfectly safe, if you know how to protect yourself. Wouldn’t that be a useful skill for an Emperor’s sister to have?”
The young woman nodded, still speechless.
Dorotea stared at her, also awed. “Where did you learn to fight like that? I saw moves that we don’t learn in the Sisterhood.”
“My brother and I taught each other.” She brushed herself off, then became more pragmatic. “There could be more of these beasts nearby, and the sky is looking ominous. I don’t think we should try for the hot springs. Let’s go directly back to the school.”
As if on cue, the ground rumbled and split, tossing black lava rocks aside as a narrow seam opened up, squirting a column of steam along with a thin, fast-flowing stream of scarlet magma into the jungle, setting the plants aflame.
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